


Plus One

by 8-is-great (jemiu)



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Fluff, M/M, well probably fluff idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 06:25:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2641448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemiu/pseuds/8-is-great
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver and Connor attend Aiden Walker and Michaela Pratt's wedding, and Oliver regrets it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plus One

**Author's Note:**

> There's no Aiden/Connor in this just in case that's what you came for... I might write follow up fics with a bit more turmoil, though, if anyone's interested???? Oh, and warning for Connor's biphobia. I kept it since it's canon, but I do not endorse Connor's bi-erasure/biphobia at all.

 

The Aiden Walker and Michaela Pratt wedding was a grand affair wrapped in white satin, red roses, and pearls.  The traditional appeal warmed Oliver's heart, catering to his (rather dominant)  romantic side.  Oliver had been overjoyed and downright love-struck when Connor had invited him, but now, as Oliver sat alone in his navy blue suit, he regretted  attending. Connor was swept away left and right by men he had lived with at  boarding school, and Oliver was left to wonder which ones were old flames—and if any of those flames still burned hot. 

Watching Connor did nothing to help these thoughts,  Oliver realized, as he saw  Connor, clad in a form-fitting black suit, laughing with a tall redhead in the distance. A pang of jealousy shot through Oliver  when the man grabbed Connor's arm and leaned in to crack some joke in Connor's ear. The charm Connor always seemed to exude had once enraptured Oliver, but now it angered him and felt like an ongoing threat to their relationship (if it even was that).

Deciding he couldn't take any more of his insecure and paranoid thoughts, Oliver walked to the  fountain outside. He could only summon one small bout of energy to fake interest in the garden's lavish flowers before he gave up and grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing tray. He drank it all at once, and blushed when he lowered his head and saw the groom approaching him.

"So, you're Connor Walsh's plus one, right?" Aiden asked.

"Yes," Oliver said, fumbling with the champagne glass in his hands.

"Wow, I'm surprised." Oliver recoiled as he felt Aiden's eyes scan him.  "I wouldn't have thought you were really his type."

"What do you mean?" Oliver asked, forcing a smile he hoped would hide how much the words stung.

"Oh, nothing, nothing. It's a good thing! Connor's usually into the macho, cocky kind of guy. You know, the intimidating,  hot type? Wild and bad boyish? " 

"Yeah?" Oliver gripped the champagne flute tighter.

"Yeah, you know. Not the innocent, sweet little nerd type like you. You seem nice. Really, you're a breath of fresh air!" Aiden smiled and slapped Oliver on the shoulder. "Glad to see he's growing out of his shallow ways."

"Y-yeah. He's great." Oliver nodded, hot-faced and shocked.

Aiden patted Oliver's shoulder again, smiled, and walked away, shouting  over his shoulder, "I hope he keeps you around!"

Oliver  sat on the stone edge of the fountain, staring at the glass in hands. He hardly knew how to unpack Aiden's obvious backhanded compliment. He knew he was nerdy, but the words cut Oliver deep,  confirming Oliver's fear that hewasn't as hot or as interesting as Connor's past interests. The words cut even deeper considering Connor's friend had clearly wanted to convey his unfavorable opinion of someone like Oliver's being with Connor, like he wanted to Oliver to really _know_ how inferior he was.  Oliver's whole body was in conflict, seized by scalding embarrassment and icy, raw insecurity. He wondered where the bathroom was, aware that he would not be able to hold back his tears for long.

Oliver jumped when someone placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey!" Connor said, grinning.

The chipper tone of Connor's typical "hey" set something off in Oliver, and he barely had time to bury his face in his hands before bursting into sobs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Connor said, wrapping his arms around Oliver's shoulders. "What's going on?"

Oliver buried his face into Connor's neck, gulping back his sobs so that the crowd around wouldn't notice that he was crying.   _Probably too late_ , he thought, but he stood anyway, leaving the champagne flute on the fountain and straightening his coat.

Connor stood, too, and stared wide-eyed, still waiting for an answer.

"It's nothing," Oliver said, sniffling.

"Obviously not."

"It's really nothing."

"Oliver..." Connor grabbed Oliver's hand. "Just tell me."

"There's too many people around," Oliver said.

"Okay, okay, let's go somewhere, then." Connor pulled Oliver through the crowd and into the reception area, heading toward the bathroom.

"You know, there's going to be people in there, too."

"Not if we lock them out," Connor said, raising his eyebrows as if the obvious solution was to lock out half a drunk wedding party from the bathroom just to talk to his boyfriend (if that's even what he was).

They stood in silence  for a few minutes waiting for the last person to leave the bathroom, and  the overpowering floral perfume meant to mask the smell of human waste nauseated Oliver. The unnatural scent brought to light how unnatural—or perhaps unjustified—Oliver's feelings were. At a wedding of all places, Oliver had broken down. He was ruining the fun, and he knew it. He frowned at Connor who simply smiled back, squeezing Oliver's arm. 

Finally, the  last man left and the bathroom was locked. Connor slid off his black coat and tossed it on the sink counter as if the fabric weren't worth several hundred dollars.  He hugged Oliver for a few minutes, petting his hair while Oliver cried quietly. After collecting himself, Oliver pulled away.

"Now tell me what's wrong," Connor finally said.

"It's... Nothing serious."

"Sure, sure. People casually cry at weddings all of the time," Connor said, rolling his eyes. 

_Well, they do, just not for the reason I am_ , thought Oliver. "It's just the groom--Aiden Walker?"

Connor furrowed his brow. "What about him?"

The intensity of Connor's tone unsettled Oliver.

"He spoke to me."

"What about?" And there it was again, the intensity that discouraged Oliver.

"He just... He just said I wasn't really your type," Oliver pushed up his glasses but looked down at the bathroom's blue tile floor. "Not as hot or... 'bad boyish'."

Connor laughed. "Do you want to be 'bad boyish'?"

"Well, no," Oliver said. "That's not the point."

"Oliver," Connor placed a finger under Oliver's chin and lifted Oliver's gaze to meet his own. "You're exactly my type. You're more my type than anyone I've ever been with."

"Really?" Warmth spread out from Oliver's chest throughout his entire body. He felt like a fool being so easily moved by Connor's words, but Connor Walsh really was the master of Oliver's world.

"Yes.  You're smart, and sweet, and good, and _ incredibly sexy _ ." Connor stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Oliver's waist.

Oliver kissed Connor's cheek, enjoying the roughness of Connor's facial hair.

"He's probably just jealous, anyway," Connor said.

"Jealous?" Oliver asked, smiling and assuming Connor was kidding around.

"Yeah..." Connor looked up at Oliver through his lashes in the sickeningly charming way he always managed . "Well, Aiden and I... He—in high school, we were an item. "

"You mean you slept together?" Oliver pushed Connor off him.

"Yeah."

"Good God, Connor, are there any guys alive you haven't fucked?"

"Well, the straight ones," Connor said with a smirk.

Oliver pushed Connor again.

"I'm joking, I'm joking! Listen, it was high school. You can't seriously be mad at me," Connor said, raising his eyebrows.

"No, I guess not."  Oliver frowned.

"Let him marry his beard," Connor said. "We can have an honest gay fuck."

"Hey, I think he really likes Michaela," Oliver said. "Bi guys exist, you know."

"Yeah, well this one's gay. Trust me," Connor said.

"Because you screwed him in high school?"

"Nevermind," Connor huffed.

Oliver rolled his eyes. Clearly Connor's ego was wounded by Aiden's straight marriage, and Oliver felt unnerved and threatened by Connor's attachment to his ex . This moment, though, in which Connor was attempting  to comfort Oliver with strokes and hugs, was too good to ruin by voicing any more insecurities, Oliver decided.

When Connor moved to embrace Oliver, the taller man leaned in, rubbing his cheek against Connor's stubble. He loved the way the hairs pulled against his skin. That simple touch embodied so much about Connor for Oliver, the way the well-groomed and collected appearance felt rough to the touch, somehow raw and wild. There was no denying that Connor was cool and cocky, but something in him was disjointed, and some days, Oliver caught a glimpse of that loose hinge. The rare sight fed his desire for not just sexual but emotional intimacy with Connor.  That's what rubbing Connor's facial hair was to Oliver: a roughness that teased emotional intimacy. 

Oliver continued to rub his cheek against Connor's as the other man began to strip away Oliver's layers, throwing the expensive clothes onto the counter. Connor slowly pulled up Oliver's undershirt, kissing each inch of skin he exposed as he went. After tossing the shirt to the pile, he lingered on Oliver's neck, pressing his warm lips and hot tongue against the sensitive skin.

"Just ignore what anyone says." Connor kissed Oliver's lips. "You're my type, my only type. My type is Oliver Hampton."

"I think I can pull off Oliver Hampton a bit better than 'bad boy'," Oliver said, grinning into Connor's kiss. Connor laughed.

"I'd like to see you be a bad boy right now," Connor said, smirking as he undid  Oliver's belt.

"So cheesy," Oliver said, laughing.

As he watched Connor peel off his own clothes, something felt lighter in Oliver's chest. There was still a tightness, but a different kind; instead of restrictive tightness crushing his lungs, this tightness only seemed to exist because his chest couldn't contain his excitement. Despite how many times Oliver had felt something before, every emotion felt new with Connor in his life.  Connor's affectionate words sated a deep-rooted desire in Oliver, and he craved more. Perhaps this was the beginning of emotional intimacy.

Connor dug through the clothing pile until he found his suit jacket, and he reached into the pocket. He smirked over his shoulder at Oliver before turning to reveal a condom and a trial packet of lube.

"You brought lube to a wedding?" Oliver said, his voice hitching.

"Well,  I heard there were gonnabe some Oliver Hamptons around, so I wanted to be prepared."

They laughed as they kissed, wrapping their arms around each other.


End file.
